


Hope in the Darkest of Times

by timeless_alice



Category: Pacific Rim
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Fencing, Gen, Jaegercon Bingo, Religion, Sibling Banter, more to come - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-04
Updated: 2013-08-09
Packaged: 2017-12-22 09:28:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/911618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timeless_alice/pseuds/timeless_alice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of one shots, all written for the Jaegercon Bingo challenge.</p><p>Third: Drifting is a beautiful thing. Although the secrets it reveals can be less than pleasant, especially among siblings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Religion

**Author's Note:**

> My goodness, this was very hard for me to write, especially since I'm nonreligious. I hope I did it justice.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dark times brings out the religion in people, and Tendo makes a habit of asking whoever's Up There to keep an eye on those closest to him.

Dark times are a magnet for the religious aspects of people buried under layers of cynicism and blind denial. When the Kaiju first attacked, there was a sky rocket of attendance in all kinds of religious buildings, with people praying to whatever deity they believed in to stop the madness. Pleading for their families to remain safe, and be absolved for all the sins they may have committed. Others turned against God, however, raging at the heavens and demanding to know what kind of deity would let his children suffer. Then, they would deny his existence altogether.

Tendo Choi was in the former camp.

After spending most of his life as an agnostic, he tapped into his Catholic roots, beginning to carry around a rosary wherever he went. And every night he found himself praying with teeth clenched desperation to _whoever_ would hear, asking them to watch over those he was close to.

Maybe there was a God. Maybe there wasn't. He just wanted to believe, to have some shred of hope, that someone Up There was looking out for him and those around him. 

It became force of habit by the time he was stationed in Anchorage to pray before a Jaeger drop. It was for luck, he insisted, whenever someone caught him with his head bowed and wrist lifted, lips almost touching his rosary beads. That would earn him a scoff, but no one truly said anything. He was good at what he did, and anything to keep his head on straight during a drop wasn't going to be criticized.

"Said your prayers yet?" Raleigh once joked during the Becket brother's third solo drop. There was a sigh of exasperation from the older Becket, Yancy, but Tendo just let out a small laugh.

"Course I did," he replied. "But I won't give you bastards the satisfaction of hearing me."

And they laughed. Raleigh's sharp, excited bark mixed with Yancy's softer, more controlled chuckle over the comm link. Tendo smiled even as he initiated the neural handshake. He sent his boys off, and watched the monitor in satisfaction as they bagged their latest kill.

Raleigh, cocky and excited, told Tendo after one mission that it wasn't the prayers keeping them together, it was a combination of their skill in the Jaeger and the skill of the man behind the monitors. There was truth to his words, it would be no use denying the physical people doing the work, especially the Beckets who were near unstoppable in their Jaeger, but Tendo continued to believe and made no effort to break his habit.

*** 

It was the Beckets' fifth solo run. Knifehead, the biggest Kaiju to date. They ran through the motions: Tendo said a soft prayer to himself, and the Beckets geared up. There was an air of ease to the whole setting. They knew what to do, and they'd be damned if they failed now.

It was going well, and Tendo was relieved as everything seemed to be going smoothly. Pentecost scolded the pilots for disobeying an order, but his relief that they had succeeded in saving everyone was palpable.

Until Tendo noticed that Knifehead wasn't dead.

"Kaiju signature rising!" he said, almost desperately.

Pentecost yelled an order, but Tendo was only half listening, eyes on the monitor and a prayer forming soundlessly on his lips. He tapped at his rosary with a thumb, fear pushing itself into his throat. It should have gone down, it caught them off guard, oh God Oh God.

Gipsy's left arm flashed, signaling that it had gone dead. He looked at Pentecost, breaking in his silent pleading with God to relate the information. Then, all of a sudden, Yancy's vitals cut off. Tendo fumbled with the controls, trying to fight off his panic that tightened in his chest. "Neural handshake broken," he said.

But the Jaeger, Raleigh kept on fighting. And with a final, desperate blast from her plasmacannon, both signals, Knifehead's and Raleigh's, went down. Gone.

_Please God let Raleigh still be alive_ , he thought as he confirmed the death of the Kaiju and the frying of the system.

After Pentecost left almost without a word, Tendo slumped in his seat and ran his hands over his face. Perhaps, he thought, if the God looking over them was benevolent, Raleigh would be dead, too. Witnessed his brother's death while in the Drift. No one should have to deal with that.

But, as it turns out, God wasn't always kind.


	2. The Kwoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mako challenges Raleigh to a fencing match. Their differences shine through, even in the Kwoon.

Of all the fighting practiced in the Kwoon, Raleigh hated fencing the most. It was so structured, requiring precise steps and wrist flicks that were more difficult to keep track of. One had to calculate distance, using trickery and speed to get close enough to land a hit.

But it was useful, and he knew it. The sword was an extension of the arm, much like the Jaeger was an extension of her pilots. It just required precision and tact that Raleigh never seemed to fully grasp.

Which meant that, unsurprisingly, Mako was incredibly skilled at it.

When she suggested it to him one day, he'd resisted at first and then begrudgingly agreed to it. The smile she gave him almost made the asskicking he knew he was inevitably going to get worth it.

She was already in the Kwoon by the time Raleigh showed up, her foil in both hands and its tip planted in the ground. The lame she wore didn't show the same signs of wear as Raleigh's, meaning that it probably belonged to her and wasn't just some PPDC handout, like his was.

"You ready?" she asked, scooping up her helmet from the floor with one hand and positioning on her head so she could slide it over her face.

"You could say that." Raleigh slipped on his own dented and beaten helmet. With a small smile visible through the dark mesh of his helmet, Mako flicked hers down, as well.

The two stepped up to their lines and saluted; sword held in front of their face, pointing towards the ceiling, then tip flicked back to the ground where it started. Mako slid smoothly into her stance, muscles relaxed and her free left hand coiled by her left ear. Raleigh just squatted down, shifting his legs and weight so he was in a better stance, placing his hand on his hip and foil at the ready.

Mako made the first move, stepping forward. Then again. Each time Raleigh matched her, in the opposite direction. His muscles tensed in preparation for her first strike, eyes darting around her person in an attempt to keep track of all her movements. The slight twitch in her shoulder, the shuffle of her feet as she darted forward and backwards to draw his sword into a parry while closing the distance between them.

Suddenly she lunged forward, thrusting her sword. Raleigh reacted, flicking his wrist into a parry four, so his sword guarded his center, but Mako twisted her wrist so her sword moved around his bell guard. The touch landed before Raleigh could counter.

He patted his chest as she drew away, a slightly pleased spring to her step.

This was going to be a long, embarrassing duel, Raleigh thought as they once more stepped to their starting positions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is more in my element than last chapter! I fenced for a awhile and some of the knowledge still sticks with me now.


	3. Drifting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drifting is a beautiful thing. Although the secrets it reveals can be less than pleasant, especially among siblings.

The Drift is beautiful, in its own way. How could the merging of two minds not be? A complete understanding of the partner, leading to absolute trust and a bond that would be impossible to duplicate without a Drift.

It also brought to light details that would be best kept secret.

Raleigh lay on his bed, staring at Yancy's bunk above with his fingers laced under the back of his head. His brother's thoughts and memories still rolled over his own like a thick fog, residue from their first Drift together. Carefree days of the two of them playing in the huge field by their house, with their little sister watching them from her perch in a branch of one of the few trees in the area. Cheating in math class ( _was that mine or his_ ) and hitting on the cute girl from civics ( _me, definitely me_ ).

Nighttime excursions, sneaking out the house's back window to explore and maybe pick a fight or two.

Nighttime activities that Raleigh would have rather not seen, rather not know about.

The loud, low creaking of the room door opening made him jolt, calling his attention to the present. Holding a hand up, to avoid hitting his head on Yancy's bunk, Raleigh pulled himself to a sitting position. Readjusting his hands so they clutched at the sheets hanging at the end of the mattress, he glared at his entering brother, whose smile was too loose and casual for the grossed out feeling creeping along Raleigh's skin.

"Why didn't you tell me about Nicole?" Raleigh snapped.

Yancy continued to smile and rose an eyebrow. "What? What about her." There was a laugh in his words.

"You. Her." Raleigh jerked his head to the side, eyebrows furrowed and teeth digging into his lips. " _My bed_."

But Yancy just laughed. "Oh, damn. You weren't supposed to know about that." He shrugged off his shirt as if it wasn't a big deal. "But you're my co-pilot, so now you know."

"I wish you had _told_ me," Raleigh said, springing to his feet. His hands curled into fists at his sides, muscles along his shoulders tensing. He wanted to punch his brother right in the jaw. "So I wouldn't have had to _watch_ it."

"You're one to talk." Yancy put his hands on his hips, head tilted to the side. He still had that God. Damn. Grin. "You want to tell me about what the hell that was with Chelsea?"

Raleigh sank back to his bed, balancing his chin in his palms. He said nothing, and Yancy was more than happy to drop the subject.

There were no secrets in the Drift. The skeletons in the closets were all dragged into the light, and the less said about them, the better.


End file.
